People Can Change Ch. 01

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A man finds his wife on gang banged wives.
7.9k words
4.17
162.3k
84

Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 11/19/2011
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DeYaKen
DeYaKen
1,622 Followers

Authors note:

I am greatly indebted to Juicy Starchild for editing this story. I am also indebted to cueball961 and a number of anonymous commenters for inspiring this story.

*

Julie moved one dick from her mouth, pulling another round to take its place. The guy who had been fucking her face now moved around to displace the guy pounding her arse. The guy from her arse moved round so that she could wrap her delicate hand around his dick and proceed to pull him off. Meanwhile the guy underneath continued to fill her pussy. As I watched, my wife was satisfying four men in ways that she had never offered me. My anger was growing as fast as the damp patch in my pants. So far I had seen her being introduced to the four men and then treating each one of them to a blow job. Hell, we had been married for two years before she ever did that for me. The four studs proceeded to take it in turns fucking both her pussy and face before moving on to her arse, a treat I had still to experience. The session culminated in the four men spraying cum all over her face and body.

I was a fresh faced twenty eight year old when I married Julie. She was just two years younger. We'd been married for seven years and had two lovely daughters; Annabel and Grace aged four and three. Julie had always been a loving wife to me and I thought we were happy and that she was satisfied. Discovering this video on "Gang Banged Wives" was like an earthquake tearing my world apart.

I put a DVD into the drive and saved the file before starting the playback from the beginning. I paused the playback during the introductions. Julies face almost filled the screen. I stared at her, desperately trying to work out how old the video was. She looked a little younger but not a lot.

Digging out the family photo albums I went through the pictures, comparing the photo with the face on the screen. Eventually I stopped - there was the picture that matched. Same hairstyle, make up done the same way, and the face was identical. The caption said that it was from our honeymoon. I looked from picture to screen and screen to picture. My anger turned to rage as I realised that the bitch had been screwing around, and had made this movie, around the time we got married. For a moment I was stunned. Something had to be done and it had to be done now.

I had been a sergeant in the Royal Marines and for seven years my men had relied on me for decisive leadership. If I was capable of doing it then, I was capable of doing it now. Two things came back to me. Attack is the best method of defence and never underestimate the advantage of surprise. My objective would be to get the slut out of my house with the minimum of loss to me. Julie was still at work and she would be due to pick up the kids from childcare before coming home.

Unlike most of the wimps around here, we didn't have joint accounts at the bank. Julie had her account, I had mine and we had a housekeeping account into which I paid a monthly amount. The most I could lose there was a month's housekeeping. The house was in my name only. If I got custody of the children - and with that DVD I had no doubt that I would - the house would be mine until the kids were eighteen, and I would then make her fight for her half. I started to think of a plan to get her out of my house and out of my life.

I went to the kitchen and pulled a roll of black rubbish bags from the cupboard. As I went around the house I tossed anything that I thought was hers into the bag. By the time I got to the bedroom I had already filled a couple of bags. Going through the wardrobes and the chests of drawers I was amazed by how many clothes she had. Nevertheless, they all went into the bags. I even went through the dirty washing basket. I carried all the bags out to the garage and left them there. Nothing to do now but wait.

Julie worked as a legal secretary for a big London firm. Of late she had been frequently late home but never on a Friday. On this Friday she didn't get home until seven thirty. I heard the car but didn't move from the kitchen. She opened the front door and was calling out to me as she came in.

"Greg darling, sorry I'm so late. Something came up at work. I'll make it up to you darling. I have dropped the kids off with mum and dad so we can go out tonight for a nice romantic evening, just the two of us. I'll just have a shower and change my clothes and we can go"

I more or less grunted an OK and she dropped her keys on the hall table before running up the stairs.

"Shit," I thought "No kids. Still, with the evidence I have of her amoral behaviour I'll have no problem getting custody and probably payment for childcare."

I walked over to the hall table. I picked up her keys, removed the house keys from the ring and put them in my pocket. I turned, went back to the kitchen and waited. I didn't have to wait long. I heard her going from place to place in the bedroom. Then came the question that I was expecting.

"Greg darling, what's going on? Where are all my clothes?"

When I didn't answer she came down wearing nothing but a towel.

"Come on darling, this is not funny. Where are all my clothes?"

"They are out in the garage. You can pick them up on the way out," I told her.

"What are you talking about? You and I are going out tonight."

"I'm going nowhere with a slut like you, but you are getting out of my life forever"

"Greg stop this.," Tears started to run down her cheeks. "What is wrong with you?"

"I just got wise to you Julie. Now are you going to leave or do I have to throw you out?"

Now she was getting angry.

"I am going nowhere until you tell me what this is all about," she said.

"In that case," I said, "you leave me no choice."

I took hold of her arms and moved towards the door. She was trying to resist but she was no match for a man like me. In the struggle she stumbled. When she refused to get up I grabbed a handful of hair and lifted her. As she got up the towel dropped to the floor. My rage was now in full flow. She screamed and beat at me with her fists but this had no effect. As we reached the hall she stumbled again and I looked down to find I had a clump of her hair in my hand. I reached out and grabbed her arm with my right hand while opening the front door with my left. With the door open I backed through it and pulled her out. I swung her around so that she crashed through the rose bushes onto the front lawn. Going back into the house I grabbed her car keys and the DVD I had burned. I opened the door again and stepped out onto the front porch.

Julie was half sitting, stark naked out on the front lawn. There was blood running from the scratches made by the roses and she was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Here," I yelled throwing her car keys at her. "Take your car and get the hell away from me."

She just looked at me, still crying.

"But why Greg, why are you doing this?" she sobbed.

"You want to know why. This'll tell you why," I shouted throwing the DVD at her.

"And don't worry. There are plenty more where that came from," I yelled.

The DVD in its jewel case flew like a Frisbee and the corner of the case caught her just below her left eye.

I walked back in and slammed the door. I watched through the window as she got to her knees. There was blood running down her cheek from the wound caused by the jewel case. As I watched she used her hands and arms to try to cover herself. "Strange," I thought, "she was not that modest in the video."

Across the road a door opened and out came Mrs Edwards, the old busy body who was always complaining about my dog shitting on her lawn. She was carrying a raincoat over her arm. As she approached Julie she wrapped the coat around her. I thought it was just typical that old biddy should come to the aid of the slut. Julie slowly got up, wrapping the coat around her as she did so. Mrs Edwards obviously had plenty to say about what she had seen but I could see that Julie wanted to get away. She went into the garage and found some clothes to wear, then got in her car and drove away. Mrs Edwards made her way back home.

With Julie gone I went up to our bedroom and picked up the clothes she had been wearing when she came home. I picked up her hand bag and took the clothes and bag out to the garage and put them with the rest of her clothes. Once the last traces of her had been removed, I got in the shower and then dressed to go out. I ate at the pub that night and stayed there till closing time. Thankfully the pub was within walking distance of my house so it was no problem having had a skin full of booze. I staggered home and put myself to bed to start my new solitary life.

In the morning my mouth felt like a wrestlers jock strap and my head was thumping. Someone was ringing the doorbell and thumping on the door.

"I told you yesterday, all your stuff is in the garage. Now take it an get your slut arse off of my property," I yelled holding my head.

"Mr Maitland, this is the police. Open up."

I staggered down the stairs and opened the door. Two police constables stood outside. The nearest officer looked at me.

"Mr Maitland? Mr Gregory Maitland?" he asked.

"Yeah I'm Greg Maitland," I said.

"Gregory Maitland, I am arresting you on suspicion of assault causing actual bodily harm. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Now I must ask you to accompany me to the station."

I couldn't believe what was happening. A steam hammer was thumping in my head and I was still getting to grips with being awake.

"Hang on, just who am I supposed to have assaulted?" I asked.

I couldn't remember much after ten the previous night. Was this something that happened on my way home?

"The charge is that you assaulted Mrs Julie Maitland, causing her actual bodily harm."

I couldn't believe it. The slut was charging me with assault.

"All I did was throw her out after finding that she starred in a porno film. What's wrong with that?" I asked.

"That is not for me to say sir," the constable said. "Now would you please get dressed and come with us."

I got dressed and went out with them. Outside most of my neighbours had found urgent work to do in their front gardens. They all watched as I was put into the police car and driven away.

I was at the police station for most of the day. During the interviews I was shown pictures of Julie's injuries. She had deep scratches to her legs and buttocks, quite heavy bruising to her arms and legs, a cut on her right cheek and a clump of her hair was missing. If their aim was to make me feel ashamed of myself, they were succeeding. I had never hit a woman in my life, yet the injuries on show were entirely down to me. I tried to explain what I had done.

"The slut made a porno while she was married to me. What did you expect me to do?" I asked.

"I expect you to obey the law," the detective responded.

It turned out that several neighbours had already given statements about what they had seen and, of course, one of those was Mrs Edwards. I was formally charged and given bail to appear at the magistrate's court on Monday. I was eventually released and got a taxi back home. The garage door was open and all of Julie's stuff was gone.

I expected to get some communication from Julie or her parents over the weekend but got none. I spent Monday at the magistrate's court where my case was referred to the crown court and I had to surrender my passport. This meant that it was Tuesday before I could get a solicitor working on my divorce. I gave him a copy of the video file of the gang bang and the photo of Julie on our honeymoon. He gave me a time span of about three months for degree nisi and a further six weeks for it to be made absolute. He thought that, given the evidence of amoral behaviour, there was a good chance of my getting custody and therefore the house. Julie was unlikely to be awarded maintenance, since she was employed with a good salary. That conversation helped to dispel some of the gloom that had settled on me over the weekend. I went into work at my tyre sales business.

The postman caught me just before I left for work on Wednesday. He had a letter that I had to sign for. I ripped it open and found to my shock that it was from a firm of solicitors advising me that Julie was petitioning for divorce on the grounds of cruelty. They also advised that she had obtained an injunction forbidding me from going within two hundred yards of either my wife, her parents or my children. I couldn't believe what I was reading. SHE was divorcing ME. No way - I was the wronged party in our marriage. If she wanted a fight she was damn well going to get one and if that meant dragging her name through the mud then so be it. I decided to go back to see the solicitor and made a point of calling him from work.

The second interview with the solicitor was less pleasant. To say that he was annoyed was putting it mildly.

"Mr Maitland," he said, "I give you advice based on what you tell me. If you don't tell me the whole story how do you expect to benefit from my advice? Now, your wife alleges cruelty. Have you any idea to what she is alluding?"

I told him that I had no idea unless it was to do with my throwing her out. I then outlined all that had gone on that day and since. When I got to the part about being referred to the crown court on assault charges I saw his eyes move up as if to look at the ceiling.

"So you are about to go before the court, charged with assaulting your wife and causing her actual bodily harm," he said. "Well you can kiss goodbye to getting the injunction lifted until after that case, and if it goes against you the injunction may stay in place till the divorce hearing."

"How certain are you that the person in your video is your wife?" he asked, returning to the divorce.

"Absolutely," I said. "You have seen the pictures."

"Yes, Mr Maitland, I have seen the pictures and I grant you that it does look like her. However, looking like her and being her can be two very different things. What does your wife have to say about it?" he asked.

"I don't know, I didn't ask," I told him. "Look, I know my wife when I see her."

He held his head in his hands while shaking it.

"Mr Maitland," he said "if your wife can introduce a reasonable doubt that it is indeed her in the video then our case falls apart and, given the evidence, her petition will be accepted. If that happens you could end up paying maintenance and child support plus paying half the mortgage on a house that you will not be allowed to live in. Add to that, your wife will be entitled to at least half of your joint assets and she will also get custody of the children and you will be liable for her costs."

"Given these new circumstances my advice to you is that we moderate your petition to make the grounds Irreconcilable Differences," he continued. "If I negotiate with your wife's solicitor we can possibly get them to do the same, which means no hearing and a much cheaper solution. Your wife will probably still get the house and custody, but we would be able to negotiate over most things."

"No way," I said. "The bitch was screwing four different blokes in every possible way. At one point she had three dicks in her. You can't expect me to ignore that."

"Very well Mr Maitland;we will let the petition stand and I will inform the court that your wife has cross petitioned. All we can do then is wait for a hearing date."

I have to say that I was a lot less happy walking out of the solicitor's office that day.

I decided to try to get on with my life and went back to work. I sat in my office and sorted through the invoices. It struck me then what my first job would have to be. Julie used to do my books and I have to say she had always done a good job. My accountant said that she did most of his job for him. I now had to find a book keeper to do the job for me. I spent the afternoon on the internet and the phone and was still none the wiser. I ended up phoning round some of the garages that I did business with and soon got a list of people to check out. The service was going to set me back about £100 per month. I took two thousand pound a month out of the business. This development was going to mean that I would have to take out one hundred pounds less.

Within a week I had found my bookkeeper and handed over all my paperwork. Her name was Clare and she seemed like a nice woman. She was in her early fifties, about five feet eight inches tall and a little overweight. She was an attractive woman, but certainly not someone I fancied. What I did find appealing was her bluntness. She was a divorcee and this gave us something in common. Although I did not tell her what had happened in detail, I did tell her I had left my wife and that she had previously done my books. She laughed and told me my education was about to begin.

When I asked what she meant she said, "Now you are going to learn how much it costs to provide the services she gave you for nothing."

In the next few weeks I started to realise just how right she was.

The days went by and the events of that Friday evening softened in my memory. Without the anger to sustain me I started to miss Julie and the children. I don't mean that in any way I had forgiven her - it was just living in the empty house. Most of the time I didn't feel like cooking for one, so I would eat at the pub. Of course, having eaten I spent the rest of the night there so I got home late and drunk. I would still be hung over the next day. This began to get to some of my staff. I found that my weekends were occupied doing washing and cleaning the house. My nights in the pub were taking a large chunk out of my cash but this was still affordable. Affordable, that is, until I got a letter from the building society saying the direct debit had been cancelled and the monthly mortgage payment of six hundred pounds was due. Within a week I got similar letters from electricity, gas and water companies. The following week came a letter from the local council demanding four hundred pounds for a month's council tax. It would seem that the thousand pound I normally put into the housekeeping did not even cover the cost of keeping the house going. I brought all this up with Clare on my next visit and she just laughed.

"Welcome to the real world my friend," was her comment.

The weeks turned into a month and I got a date for the divorce hearing. The solicitor was pretty well spot on with his estimate. In another two months I would be free. I was still a little surprised I had received no communication from Julie in all this time. I suppose I had originally expected her to come around begging me to take her back. Okay, so that isn't going to happen, but I still expected her or her solicitor to try and open negotiations. No contact at all made me wonder whether there was something they knew that I didn't. I still had no date for my trial on assault charges.

Even though I had stopped going to the pub every night I was still not living well. I lived on sausage, egg and chips or takeaway food. Once a week I would drop by Clare's house to deliver the week's invoices and income details. We would have a coffee and a chat. Perhaps it was because she, like me, was a person on her own struggling to survive in the world but I really enjoyed talking to her. We would share details of our week. Mine was mainly work but Clare seemed to have an active social life. When I told her I had a date for the divorce hearing in two months she didn't share my joy. Her only response was,

"Well at least you will know where you stand after that."

On the day of the hearing I dressed in my best suit and put on a tie, which is unusual for me. I arrived early at the court and waited for my solicitor. I saw Julie come in with her legal representative. I was about to speak when she looked in my direction. She did not even acknowledge my presence. Her stare went right through me. Our case came up at eleven and we all filed into the court. It was decided to hear my petition first so my solicitor opened the proceedings.

DeYaKen
DeYaKen
1,622 Followers